


I Don't Want To Fall (Fall Away)

by Silence_Will_Fall201



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, But it's also through different points in AOS, F/M, Fitz needs some counselling, Fitz talks about his traumas, from season 1 to season 6 (Spec), from when he first killed someone, long time coming tbh, really - Freeform, so like, to now basically
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2019-10-05 10:16:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17323103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silence_Will_Fall201/pseuds/Silence_Will_Fall201
Summary: Through his time as a SHIELD Agent on Coulson's team, Fitz has been through a lot more than most of his teammates. He doesn't talk openly about his struggles like some of his other teammates, but finds solace in those present at that moment, or those he finds more appropriate to talk to.-OR Fitz talks to certain members of the team after significant events that he took part in.-OR OR Missing Moments we should have gotten





	1. Believe me I'm fine

**The Hub - Just after the HYDRA Uprising began**

-

 

Fitz had his head in a wall panel on The Bus, trying to fix it, his hands were shaking but nothing he did to get his mind off of what he did worked in settling his mind. Trip was not far away, trying to help out as Fitz called out orders to the other man, getting him to work on the things that Fitz couldn't get his hands on. He had avoided Simmons since she reunited with the team, he couldn't bare to face her, afraid he would blurt out the truth. The truth that he killed someone. He didn't even want to get involved in field work anyway, that was all her, and here he is the one getting blood on his hands, getting his hands dirty. He felt sick at the though.

"Fitz." A voice called from behind him. He jumped and unfortunately hit his head on the top of the panel. Some agent he was, getting scared at ever noise. Once he pulled his head out of the panel, he saw May standing behind him. "Trip, I think Coulson wants to talk to you." She told Trip, her eyes hard and telling that she needed to talk to Fitz alone. Fitz himself heard the unspoken conversation passing between the two agents in front of him, and let out a sigh he didn't realise he was holding in when Trip left.

"What do you want to talk about?" Fitz asked, walking over to the lab and sitting in a chair. May sighed and produced two beers from where she had been holding them at her side, going unnoticed by the engineer.

"You know what." She told him, sitting next to him and handing him a beer.

They sat in silence for several minutes, both not wanting to make the first move but also content in each others company. They had a mutual experience. Sure, Coulson knew about it, saw it even, but ultimately it was Fitz and May's experience to share, something to bond over, and it seems they did. They weren't going to say anything, that's just who they were, but something had strengthened between them, a form of comradery. Ultimately, however, it was May that broke the silence with the words Fitz hadn't told himself since it happened.

"You did what you had to do." She said bluntly. Fitz flinched slightly and frowned as his hands still shook.

"It doesn't feel like it." He told her honestly.

"I know. It probably never will." She sighed and faced him directly. "It still haunts me." 

 _"It_ _"_ Fitz responded, emphasising the word with a dark eyed frown. "Might as well call it what it is. Murder."

"What you did, Fitz, that wasn't murder. That was self-defence." She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Was it?" He asked hopelessly, staring at the older agent. "Because I was saving  _you_. Not my own bloody ass." He looked down at his beer. "I haven't even told Simmons."

"Will you?" May asked with a frown. Fitz hadn't even told his best friend.

"I don't know." He responded honestly, his voice small. "I don't want to see the look on her face when she realises what I am."

"And what are you?" May said softly, knowing his answer but wanted to hear it from him.

"A killer." He muttered, his eyes tracing nonexistent patterns on the floor. 

"Fitz, look at me." May ordered, getting an immediate reaction, her hardened brown eyes meeting blue ones with just a little less light inside than there was that morning. "You did not murder that man. You were saving me, and without you I would be dead, Fitz. Dead. Do you get that?" May asked. Fitz seemed to consider that for a moment, before his eyes flashing with an emotion May couldn't recognise immediately and a tear fell down his cheek.

"I never wanted this." He told her honestly.

"I know. No one ever does. I certainly didn't want it." She responded, setting her beer on the table in front of her. "Don't cry over it, or wallow in self-pity. My advice to you is to try and move on. Forgetting it happened won't work, but letting it consume you won't either. Get on with your life, keep moving, you never have to do it again as long as Coulson and I are doing our jobs correctly, and Simmons will never have to know how it feels."

"Won't she?" Fitz looked at her, disbelieve etched on his face. "It's the life, right?"

"You and Simmons aren't field agents. You shouldn't have had to kill anyone at all." May told him pointedly. 

"Yeah." Fitz sighed. "Thanks, May, for the beer...and the talk." Fitz told her honestly, his eyes showing May how appreciative he actually was without him saying a word. She gave him a nod in response.

"You're welcome, Fitz." She gave him the first smile he'd seen on her face as she stood. "If you ever need to talk some more, I'm still here."

"Got it." He sent her an appreciative smile and stood. "I should get back to fixing the plane."

"I'll send Trip back in."

"Yeah, thanks." Fitz walked over to his tools and grabbed a few things as May left.


	2. I'm so very far from fine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Fitz wakes from the nine days of unconsciousness, he and Simmons talk.

**The Playground - Three Days after Fitz woke up**

-

Simmons watched from the door to the lab as Fitz yelled at some lab techs, throwing books and thankfully plastic beakers and flasks - they integrated to plastic after Fitz caused an unfortunate injury with one of the lab techs having glass embedded in their arm and some in their cheek - off the tables. He had unfortunately cornered the poor men and women to yell about their incompetence, causing some of the newer and younger staff to look almost terrified.

"Fitz!" She called with a sigh. The shouting stopped and the lab techs hurried out of the immediate area, back to doing the jobs they were paid to do, and not getting yelled at. "You need to cut them some slack." She told him, hands crossed over her chest with a pointed stare painting her features. "They're new, they don't know how things work around here just yet."

"T-they're idiots." He stuttered slightly, sitting down, his face nearly red with frustration. "I just-I just don't understand how they could...be so stupid." He told her with a shrug.

"Not everyone is as smart as you, Fitz." She rolled her eyes with a chuckle. He grunted but said nothing as she sat next to him. "What's really bothering you?"

"Everything," He said simply "P-people are treating me like I'm-i'm bloody made of-of-"

"Glass?" Simmons suggested. Fitz nodded and continued.

"A-a-and it's frustrating me." He frowned. "I-i'm still me."

"I know that, Fitz...you're just a little different now and people are trying to work around it." Simmons sighed.

"Y-yeah like that's hard. I-I can still do my bloody job." He huffed with a frown and furrowed brows. "I'm not an idiot like-like them." He said loudly, gesturing to the lab techs.

"Now don't go blaming them, Fitz." Simmons warned.

"E-even you." Fitz eventually added.

"Me? What am I doing?" Simmons' eyes widened in surprise.

"E-every time I do or-or say something a bit different, or yell at the lab techs, or-or when I stutter, you-you look at me with pity." He told her, seemingly disgusted. "I don't...I don't want or need pity."

"Okay, then." Simmons nodded.

"And-and you keep trying to get me to do something I would've -  _could've_ done before and look sad when I-I can't do it, or won't and it's bloody frustrating, Simmons." Fitz sighed and put his head in his hands. "I try and speak, but I-I can't....I'm too slow and it's taking me...so long to do things now and I-I can't take it. I feel like I can't do my-my job so Mack's taking it." Fitz muttered, his voice low and tired.

"Fitz..." Simmons trailed off.

"I-I changed...and no-nobody's accepting it." Fitz sighed. "I-I don't want to-to talk to people anymore because I can't talk pr-properly and people just wait for me and..." He trailed off.

"And it makes you feel bad?" Simmons suggested, her expression sad for Fitz.

"Like a child." He corrected. "Like a babbling...in-incoherent child."

"Oh." Simmons looked to the floor. "I'm always here, Fitz, you know that."

"Yeah..." He frowned. "I-I feel like I'm getting worse, Simmons, like everything's closing in...and-and I just want to go back to how it was be-before." He stopped, eyebrows furrowing.

"Before the pod?" Simmons questioned.

"Before HYDRA." He clarified.

"Right." She nodded. She frowned, not knowing how to help him, his issues running deep. His issues...with her. She suspected his outbursts had something to do with what happened in the pod, his frustrations at her, she had talked to Coulson that morning, asking about an assignment she could go on that was...well, long term. He asked her why, then when she explained he told her there might be one before ushering her out of his office. Fitz was different now, and Simmons didn't know how to help him besides what he was already getting, and so she tried her best, trying to treat him like he was before, but that didn't seem to be working either. 

"I-I just..." Fitz slammed his hand on the table in frustration as he stuttered. "Just go." He told her. "Please."

"Okay, Fitz." Simmons told him softly, standing to leave. "If you need me, I'll be in the common room with the others."

"Yeah..." Fitz muttered as he watched her leave.


	3. Take Aim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz held a gun at Mack. He would never forget the order from Coulson to shoot. Couple that with his friend dying and another having been exposed to an unknown alien chemical, Fitz was not having a good week.
> 
> -
> 
> Set after What They Become.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel that moment has been looked over so much by everyone, like Fitz pointed a gun at one of his friends while his boss told him to shoot. That does stuff to a person.
> 
> -
> 
> This is just a short one because it was a really small moment

**The Playground - After coming back from Puerto Rico**

**-**

Fitz stared at a sleeping Skye in the quarantined room situated in the corner of the lab. The mission in Puerto Rico had gone south fast. Incredibly fast. They nearly lost Mack, they did lose Trip, Skye had been kidnapped and subjected to some weird alien experiment by her own father, Grant Ward and Raina of all people, and it was too much. Too much to handle in such a short amount of time. Though Fitz was in the lab, he isolated himself, he tended to do that. Simmons couldn't get close enough to him without him turning away and mumbling at her to go away, Bobbi tried to talk to him, so did Coulson and even Hunter, but no one could get through.

"Turbo..." Mack walked into the lab and saw Fitz's self-pity mode dialled to eleven, and decided to sit with him.

"Are you okay?" Fitz asked him, not making eye contact.

"Truthfully? Not remotely, man." Mack shook his head and let out an exasperated sigh.

"I could've killed you..." Fitz muttered, nearly breaking down with anxiety. The world seemed to be closing in, his airways were clogging up and his vision was spotting. He was having a panic attack.

"Hey, hey, no!" Mack's eyes widened. "Breathe, Turbo, just breathe." Mack attempted with a hopeless expression. "You didn't kill me, man, even then I don't think bullets would have worked."

"You don't know that." Fitz muttered, slamming his hand on the table beside him causing a few lab techs to jump. "You have no idea what would have happened if I had taken the shot!"

"You're right, Fitz, you're right." Mack sighed and slumped next to the engineer on his own seat.

"It's just...Coulson asked me to shoot you, that's not something I ever want to do. I never want to hold a gun to one of my friends and pull the trigger." Fitz explained quickly. "And I have no idea what'll happen in the-in the future because this job has become so unpredictable and-and bad things happen all the time." He took a breath a looked to Mack with emotional eyes. "I can't do anything about them...we-we  _lost_ Trip. He was my friend, and he died, and I didn't even treat him like I should have and  _he died_."

"Fitz..." Mack trailed off with a sigh, but Fitz wasn't done.

"And now Skye's possibly infected with something, and Raina's somewhere on the loose, Ward's still out there wreaking havoc and I can't do a single thing!" He let out a puff of air. "I...I-uh needed that."

"I can tell." Mack nodded. "Fitz, I won't pretend to know what happened to you last year, all I hear are stories and most are probably untrue. I won't pretend to know exactly how you're feeling, and I won't stand by while you blame and hate yourself. Man, you're  _my_ friend and if I have to watch you beat yourself up after every tragedy that happens, when it isn't even your fault, I don't know what I'd do, to be honest." He explained with a sigh.

"You'd probably do what you're doing now." Fitz huffed.

"Probably, and that's not a bad thing you know? You need someone to talk to sometimes." Mack shrugged.

"I'm sorry..." Fitz shook his head and sighed. "You-you went through something there, something terrible and-and traumatising and here I am making it about me." Fitz put his head in his hands.

"Hey, you have every right to feel something after what happened. I feel like absolute crap but I'm putting that on the back burner for now because Skye needs us, the team needs us because we're starting to crack." Mack explained, giving Fitz a hopeful expression. "And yeah, what happened was crazy and I'm sure once I get my head around it, I'll be acting a bit different about the subject, but Fitz, we need to move on with this."

"Yeah...thanks Mack." Fitz gave him an appreciative nod.

"Besides, Simmons' will be back from the site soon." Mack told him, put his hand on the younger man's shoulder.

"I guess then she can take a look at Skye, help us fix this mess we made." Fitz sighed and stood. "I better get back to work."

"Yeah, okay, man." Mack stood with him. "Me too." He watched Fitz turned and begin to walk away before calling out to him. "Fitz?"

"Yeah?" Fitz stopped and turned around.

"If you ever need to talk to anyone, I'm here, you know?" Mack said, making sure the younger man knew there was somewhere to go.

"Yeah. Right back at you." Fitz gave him a small smile before going back to work.


	4. To Break Up and Fall Apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz reflects on Gordon's death with Coulson.

**The Playground - After the mission on the Iliad**

**-**

Fitz had isolated himself yet again, his mind spinning and hands shaking as he couldn't get the image of Gordon's impaled body out of his mind. He sat in his on-base bedroom, eyes closed and right hand clutching his spasming left, panic clear to anyone looking. He wasn't meant to be a field agent, that was the thing bothering him the most - well, the second thing on his mind - and even May herself told him the year prior that he wasn't meant to get his hands dirty. However, she also told him on their first mission together as a group that he was going to have to. He scoffed at the thought. There was a knock at his door and he turned to look at who was entering. Coulson stuck his head through a small opening, and upon seeing the state Fitz was in, walked inside and closed the door behind him.

"I bet I look pathetic, right?" Fitz managed to laugh, although rather darkly.

"You look like any normal person after what had happened." Coulson told him, moving to sit down next to him. "Mack and I are fine because we've been in the game a while."

"Well, neither of you killed anyone today." Fitz looked to the floor, moving his hands to his head.

"Neither did you." Coulson sighed. "Gordon's death was practically self inflicted."

"Sure." Fitz stated, unconvinced. "He just happened to impale himself."

"He teleported, Fitz, you can't blame yourself for the man teleporting into the space where that pole was." Coulson put his only hand on Fitz's shoulder. "You didn't kill him."

"Sure feels like I did." Fitz told the older agent, a sob catching his words. "I impaled a man."

"Dammit, Fitz." Coulson sighed. "You did no such thing."

"What's next for me, then? Beheading?" Fitz scoffed. "I'm so stupid." He muttered the last words, pressing the palm of his hand to his eye socket and grunting.

"Stop talking like that, Fitz, you're brilliant and what happened today was an unfortunate accident. You can't change it, or convince me you killed the man." Coulson told him firmly, watching Fitz's eyes shoot to meet his, the shadow behind them so apparent it made Coulson's heart break

"I told you after...after Ward...that I'm not a killer." Fitz began with a sigh.

"You're still not." Coulson reassured.

"Tell that to the HYDRA Agent I killed last year!" Fitz raised his voice slightly, causing Coulson to take a deep breath and give him an exasperated expression. "And the man I impaled this afternoon." He quieted down and fell into a heap made of his own body, head in his hands and knees brought up to his chest. He sat like that for what seemed like hours, but was only several minutes, Coulson just simply sitting with him until he was ready to talk again. "I'm unsure of who I am," Fitz muttered. "Am I good person?"

"Definitely." Coulson assured him, his voice way more optimistic than the young engineer's. "You've saved so many people, Fitz, and you don't even know."

"What do you mean?" Fitz creased his eyebrows in confusion and looked back at Coulson, straightening his posture.

"The mouse-hole, for one." Coulson stated with a shrug. "Fury used it to get away from The Winter Soldier before SHIELD Fell."

"Really?" Fitz's eyes widened in surprise. 

"Maria Hill also used it to help Rogers and Romanoff escape containment." Coulson informed him. "The few hard choices you have to make don't define you, Fitz. You're a hero from behind the scenes, just as you're a hero on the front lines. We couldn't do a lot of what we do without you, Fitz. Gordon was an accident, nothing you say can make me change my mind at that." Coulson clapped him on the shoulder and stood. "The team's celebrating our win in the common room, I think you should come."

"No, I'm okay...I have a few things to work on in the lab." Fitz shrugged the offer off with a dismissive wave.

"Fitz." Coulson stared at him firmly. "Work can wait, come socialise. It'll get your mind off everything." It took a moment, but Fitz nodded.

"Fine, but after that, Simmons and I have work to do in the Monolith containment room." Fitz stood and gave Coulson a pointed lock. "And that cannot wait a moment longer."

"Of course." Coulson told him with a nod. "Now let's go before Hunter drinks all the beer."

"I'm sure he's busy in the med bay with Bobbi." Fitz said glumly.

"I think I saw him bring a case to the med bay, to be honest." Coulson barked a laugh. "Now, are you coming or not?"

"Yeah, I'm coming." Fitz gave him a small smile and followed him out of his room.


	5. It's Taking A Toll On My Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Fitz breaks into the Monolith Containment room, Bobbi decides to have a chat with the engineer about not giving up.

**The Playground - Not long after containment is compromised**

-

Fitz stared at the sand on his fingertips, the impossible sand that shouldn't even exist in the place he found it. He had  _hope_ and an actual lead for the first time in  _six months,_ but he also had desperation and gunshot residue on his hands as a byproduct. Fitz was both hopeful and exhausted, yet determined. He felt that spark light up in his chest once again, that spark telling him that Jemma was alive. She was alive, and he was going to find her if it was the last thing he ever did. He felt the grains crunch between his fingers as he moved it around, the incredible,  _impossible_ sand. The monolith wasn't just a rock in an odd state of flux with the properties of matter it possessed. No, Fitz had a theory. The monolith transported her somewhere, and he was going to find out where.

"Fitz?" A feminine voice called from behind him. Fitz jumped from where he was sitting and turned abruptly to see Bobbi standing several meters away. "It's late, what are you doing in here?"

"Thinking," Fitz shrugged and looked back to the sand. "Thinking about my new theory that I'm almost certain has some substance to it."

"What theory would that be?" Bobbi limped slightly over to where he was sitting and leant on the bench. Though she was mostly healed, Fitz still caught the uncertainty in her movements, and the way she sometimes used her good leg as the starting leg for her step multiple times in a row, instead of it alternating.

"The monolith is a portal. A gateway of sorts. Think of it as something similar to how Thor transports around worlds." Fitz told her, his eyes glinting with newfound fire.

"So...like an Einstein-Rosen Bridge?" Bobbi questioned with a slightly confused look on her face.

"Exactly!" Fitz nodded and moved his fingers to his keyboard to quickly begin typing.

"Fitz." Bobbi sighed at the engineer, watching his face as he turned to her, his eyes losing a bit of light as he realised what was about to happen. "I think we need to talk. About the monolith, how you're acting and about Simmons."

"I'm not going to give up, Bobbi, Coulson already tried, even went so far as to say he was going to tell Jemma's parents." Fitz told her, determination as clear as the frustration. "Nothing you can say would get me to give up on my best friend."

"I wasn't going to even suggest it, and you know it." Bobbi sat down next to Fitz and gave him a pointed look. "Who exactly has been covering for you the entire time you've been chasing down leads? Me. I'm not going to abandon you or Simmons now." She gave him the same fiercely determined look. "However, you need to think about a few things."

"Like what?" Fitz slumped back into his chair.

"You can't go negotiating with terrorists, for one." Bobbi raised an eyebrow at Fitz's defeated expression.

"I didn't even give him what he wanted." Fitz shrugged. "I got what I wanted and then busted my arse to get out of there."

"My point still stands." Bobbi rolled her eyes. "Fitz, you're acting erratically and it's affecting the team, and yourself. By breaking into containment, you could've killed yourself."

"Or I could have been with Jemma." Fitz shrugged. Bobbi sighed and shook her head.

"Look, we all know how desperate you are, and we all want to find Simmons to, but we've resorted to thinking realistically."

"That's the problem." Fitz grunted. "By thinking realistically, you've given up on her!"

"I'm not saying that." Bobbi put her hands up in defence. "Fitz, I'm just asking you to be mindful of yourself as well as the team. You haven't eaten properly since you left for Morocco. You haven't slept properly in months, I just want you to take care of yourself."

"Not until Jemma's back." Fitz stared Bobbi down. "I need to devote all my time to getting through that portal."

" _If_ it's a portal." Bobbi pointed out. "Fitz, we know nothing about the monolith, all we know is what the Inhuman's knew. It's something they were afraid of, and I think we should be too."

"Sure, but if there's even a sliver of a chance that Jemma's still alive, I'm taking it and doing everything in my power to get to her." Fitz told Bobbi with a frustrated grunt. "And it annoys the hell out of me that nobody else is taking this as serious as I am!" He slammed the table in front of him with so much force it make some nearby chemical containers vibrate slightly.

"Fitz, you have to take care of yourself too. You're going to end up killing yourself. I care about you as much as I care about Simmons, and I'm not going to stand by and watch you deteriorate in front of me!" She exclaimed, leaning forward with a tense ferocity that had Fitz speechless for several moments. "We're going to get her back, but in the meantime, tae care of yourself too, okay?"

"Okay..." Fitz trailed off and then shut his mouth abruptly. 

"Being without Simmons for so long has done something to you, Fitz." Bobbi narrowed her eyes at him.

"What do you mean?" He cocked his head in confusion. 

"Your clothing for one," Bobbi pointed out.

"Felt it was time for a change." Fitz shrugged. "Got tired of cardigans." Bobbi hummed in response.

"Either way, Fitz, do as I said, okay? We're going to get Simmons back, and all of us are willing to help, you know that. You don't have to go about this alone." Bobbi stood shakily.

"Wouldn't dare." Fitz cracked a smile as he watched her leave.


	6. My Crime is My Sentence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz can't bare to tell Jemma what happened on Maveth, past the fact that Will died. Coulson has a chat.

**The Playground - After Coulson and Fitz return from Maveth**

**-**

Fitz was never one for working out. He did it when he had to prep for an especially physically demanding mission, or an undercover op that required a certain type of character he had to play, but he never really chose to do it. Well, that is until he returned from Maveth. He found the punching bag to be a great distraction for him, his thoughts about what had happened on that terrible, blue planet drifting to the background. He punched the bag as hard and as fast as he could, lucky that May had taught him how to actually punch without breaking his wrist, and drove through. The bag rattled and jerked backwards, the seam on the side coming apart at the force. The thing about Fitz, was that he was much stronger than he looked. He was so engrossed in the activity that he didn't notice someone walk behind the punching bag and grab it with their whole body, keeping it still while Fitz punched. When he finally did look at who it was, he stepped back slightly and looked to the floor.

"Sir." He greeted.

"What are you doing, Fitz?" Coulson asked with a sigh, watching as Fitz walked over to a bag sitting on the floor, unwrapping his hands as he walked.

"Punching, clearing my head." Fitz responded, dropping the wraps in his bag.

"Since when is clearing your head punching something rather than soldering a new gadget?" Coulson questioned, walking over to a table situated in the corner of the training room and sitting down, the open invitation for Fitz to join him lingering in the air before the young agent complied.

"Had to get some anger out too. I can't always yell at the lab techs." Fitz shrugged.

"Are you okay?" Coulson finally asked. What happened on Maveth was something neither of them had spoken much about to anyone other than each other. Even then Fitz was apprehensive about the subject. Coulson at least told the team that Ward was dead, but none of the details. Fitz hadn't said much to Simmons other than the same thing about Will, details spared.

"How could I be?" Fitz sighed, wiping the back of his hand over his sweat covered forehead. "I promised Jemma I'd get Will back, and I failed. I had to see the look on her face when she realised he was gone."

"That's not what's bothering you, though. Is it?" Coulson frowned as Fitz eyed him, eyes wide and uncertain, most of the light snuffed out quite a while ago. It made Coulson sad to think about. How two young scientists, eyes wide with wonder and curiosity, imaginations wide and full of hope and light, turned into two hardened agents, eyes narrow and dark, imaginations realistic and brought down to Earth by loss and the reality of violence. Both Fitz and Simmons had been through a lot, Fitz having been the one to end up with more blood on his hands, while Simmons the one with wide and traumatic experiences spanning  _space._ It was a lot for anyone to bare, and for them both to have gone through it and come out still decently okay, was something Coulson could barely believe.

"No, it isn't." Fitz spoke, bringing Coulson out of his thoughts. "I-I shot that  _thing_ and it still didn't go down." He looked straight at Coulson, but also through him. That was another thing about Fitz, he was unbelievably observant. He didn't miss much on anyone, or anything. It was a skill he'd had before joining Coulson's team, and had progressed as a skill after joining. It was something most people miss about him, underestimating the young genius. "But I burnt it. Sent it straight to hell." Fitz continued.

"Yeah, you did. You may have just saved the entire human race by doing so." Coulson told him, watching as Fitz's face scrunched up and he pinched his nose.

"I highly doubt a centuries old Inhuman got stopped by a flare gun." Fitz grunted a response, not wanting to over play his action.

"You never know." Coulson shrugged. Fitz still seemed troubled, though, meaning that he had more to get out. Coulson put a hand on his shoulder and looked him straight in the eyes. "You didn't kill Will."

"No, but I destroyed any hope of getting him back. There could have been a way to purge that Inhuman from his body and save the man underneath." Fitz sounded hopeless and slumped under Coulson's touch. "I could have given Jemma what she wanted."

"That was not an option, Fitz. Will died the moment the Inhuman took him over. I'm positive about that. There was no way to get him back. You didn't kill Will, you just did your job. You saved us from coming through that portal accompanied by a monster.  _You_ did that. That wasn't me, Fitz, I was so caught up in my revenge that  _you_ saved the day. You're a hero, Fitz." Sincerity flooded Coulson's words and Fitz squirmed under the gaze of his boss.

"I'm not a hero, far from it." Fitz spoke quietly. "Would a hero kill people? Would a hero create things that could be used to kill?" Coulson's heart nearly broke at the words, and the sight of a nearly broken Fitz.

"Rogers has killed people. People call him a hero. Romanoff has killed people. People call her a hero. Barton has killed people. People call him a hero. Stark made weapons that were used to kill people. People call him a hero." Coulson spoke quickly, trying to cement the idea in Fitz's head. He was a hero. "What you do, the mistakes you make, they haunt you forever. I know it, May knows it. Getting your hands dirty does things to your soul, it chips away at the good. Saving people, and doing things that make you feel like you've done something good pieces the chips back together. Maybe not in the same way, but in a way that you can still live on. You will never forget the first time you kill, and the next time, and every time after that. You will always remember. But you can move past all of it by doing the good that defined you in the first place. Your actions aren't you, just like you aren't your actions." Coulson watched as a singular tear found it's way down Fitz's cheek as he spoke, the words processing in the engineer's mind.

"I just can't tell her. I can't tell Jemma. Every time I try, I say something else and move on." Fitz looked to the floor.

"She won't care." Coulson told him. "She won't care that it was you who destroyed Will's body. She'll care that you're the one that made it home, because you're the one she truly cared about returning. Yes, she wanted Will to com back, but if you had died on Maveth, I don't think for one second that Simmons would be able to move on without you."

"Thanks, sir." Fitz gave him a sad smile. "I-I think I needed that."

"Of course you did." Coulson let out a small chuckle. "Now if you need help telling Simmons about what happened...I'll gladly accompany you."

"No, it's okay. I think I've got it." Fitz stood and gave Coulson a nod.


	7. Abuse Grace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz is feeling guilty after killing Giyera and seeks guidance and advice from May, which leads him to talk to Daisy, both of them comforting each other, and eventually Daisy persuades him to talk to Jemma.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some confusion over how many bullets Fitz shot Giyera with, his bio on the MCU Wiki says 2, but I could have sworn it was 3, so I just put 3.

**The Playground - After Hive's plan is dissolved and before Daisy leaves**

-

Fitz slammed the gun down on his lab bench, hands shaking but anger filling the atmosphere. Lab techs hurried out of the space, leaving the engineer alone. He let out a yell and hit a small file organiser off his desk and onto the floor, moving to the pencil holder and then over to his workbench where he proceeded to throw a recent design he had been working on, onto the floor, smashing the fragile plastic casing. He put his hands behind his head and let out a huff, looking around at the small destruction he had caused. Slumping on his desk chair, Fitz eyed the weapon sitting nearby, the very lethal weapon, the weapon with three bullets missing.

"I would've thought you and Simmons would be off planning your vacation." May stepped into the lab, watching as the engineer didn't even flinch at her presence, accustomed to the regular 'after something happens' talks with members of the team.

"Why would we?" Fitz asked, spinning around on his chair to face her. "Lincoln's dead, half our co-workers have been turned into mindless inhuman monsters and the base is damaged as a result. Seems like a bad time for a holiday." Fitz spat with so much distain that May frowned. He wasn't usually the 'angry at the world' type, and more the 'angry at himself' type.

"You've left out the one thing relating to you." May took a seat on a nearby table and stared Fitz down.

"What?" He furrowed his eyebrows, clearly not wanting to talk about it.

"Giyera." May stated firmly, raising an eyebrow when Fitz turned away.

"What's there to talk about?" He asked, looking back at his computer.

"Don't shut me out now, Fitz." May told him, her voice commanding and making him turn with a sigh and eyes filled with regret, guilt and satisfaction. An odd combination and it was especially odd for Fitz. May sighed and shook her head. "You don't wan to talk, that's fine. Just listen," She began "I told you when you first killed someone, that you never had to do it again if Coulson and I were doing our jobs correctly. I failed in that. I never wanted you or Simmons to experience what it was like to have blood on your hands, and I failed. That's on me," May sighed and looked straight into Fitz's eyes. "But shutting everyone out after it happens isn't a good idea, and you know it. You're different than Simmons, and just because she was able to walk off killing Bakshi like nothing had happened, doesn't mean you have to do the same."

"Yeah, well Jemma's only killed one person in comparison to me, seems she's able to control it when she has the choice to kill or injure." Fitz spat at himself. That's the Fitz May knew, directing his guilt and regret towards himself.

"You are not a bad person, Fitz. You know that, deep down. Telling yourself you could have done it differently, that you could have injured him instead of killing him is not going to change it. You couldn't have done it differently. Giyera was a telekinetic. Injuring him still would have left him able to use his powers." May rationalised, causing Fitz to look at her with glassy eyes and a soft frown.

"You say I'm not a bad person, but Giyera tortured Jemma." Fitz took a deep breath. "I think-I think some part of what I did may have been for her, may have been for revenge." Fitz muttered. 

"You are not a bad person." May stood and stared him down, her eyes firm, her words direct. "I will keep telling you that until you believe." She looked back to the doorway of the lab. "I think you should talk to Daisy. She feels terrible about what happened to her, and having you talk to her might help."

"Why?" Fitz muttered.

"Because she's also been through something, and you can relate on some level." May told him before walking out of the lab.

 

* * *

 

 

Fitz found himself at Daisy's room, the door slightly open so Fitz could see her sitting on her bed, crying. Fitz knocked lightly on the wall beside the door and watched as she saw him, sitting up and wiping her eyes so that Fitz didn't see her vulnerable side. Her wordless invitation to come in was all it took for Fitz to shut the door behind him and sit on the chair next to the bed. Daisy took one look at Fitz's face before tears began to fall again. Fitz softly put a hand on her shoulder and they sat next to each other, silently comforting each other's pain. After several minutes, Daisy broke the silence with an apology.

"I'm so sorry, Fitz." She muttered in between sobs. "I'm sorry for nearly killing you, for nearly killing Mack, for actually killing Malick even though he was the bad guy. I'm sorry for going back to Hive." Daisy apologised over and over again.

"It's okay." Fitz told her. Daisy broke down again and looked at a picture on her phone of her and Lincoln. "I love him, you know?" She muttered. "I still love him."

"Yeah...I know." Fitz sighed and pulled his hand back to his lap. "You won't ever forget him, or how much you love him."

"I know...at that hurts." Daisy muttered, clutching the phone like it was her lifeline. "It hurts and I can't do anything about it."

"Losing people you love...that's one of the worst pains imaginable." Fitz told her. "Its like a wildfire in your chest that you can't put out, something that rips and shreds your heart to pieces and then burns it to ash and you can't do anything. You can't do anything because life doesn't work that way, and it sucks. It's bloody hell on Earth."

"Heartbreak." Daisy summarised.

"Yeah..." Fitz nodded. 

"Are you okay?" Daisy asked him eventually, after several more moments of silence.

"Yeah. I will be." Fitz nodded with a sigh.

"I saw you kill Giyera...Fitz that can't have been easy on you." Daisy pressed, her eyes sympathetic and sincere.

"No, it wasn't, but you need more support than me right now." Fitz told her with a firm stare. "My problems can wait."

"No they can't. Not for you." Daisy shook her head. "Talk to Jemma."

"What?" Fitz raised his eyebrows.

"My guess is most of what happens in the field when she's not with you goes unsaid, so talk to her. Tell her what happened." Daisy wiped a stray tear from her cheek and continued "She needs to know."

"I don't know what to say." Fitz muttered.

"You'll think of something. Go talk to her. I'll be fine, Coulson's coming to talk to me soon." Daisy gave him a sad smile. Fitz stood and nodded to Daisy, about to leave her room, but she stopped him briefly. "Oh, and Fitz?" When he turned back, Daisy's sad smile turned into a slight frown. "Goodbye."

"Bye." Fitz gave her an equally sad smile before leaving her room.

 

* * *

 

 

Fitz found Jemma in the Zephyr, helping with the cleanup efforts after everything had calmed down. She was checking off and list of things to clean when she saw Fitz, smiling she put down the list and hugged him. The two said nothing as Fitz led Jemma outside the Zephyr and onto the concrete floors of the hangar, his eyes glassing over slightly as they roamed over the bodybag being wheeled out of the plane. Jemma saw where he was looking and shrugged.

"Giyera." She told him. "May told me she killed him." Her expression told Fitz she was slightly satisfied with the death of her torturer. "Good. He was a monster."

"Jemma..." Fitz trailed off, rubbing his hand over his face as he thought. "May...May was covering for me."

"What do you mean?" She asked with a quirk of her head and furrowed eyebrows.

"She didn't kill him...I-I did." Fitz admitted. Jemma's eyes widened and she took a half step back before shaking her head and stepping forward again.

"You killed him, Fitz?" Jemma asked for confirmation, her eyes lowing to the ground when he nodded. She looked back up to his guilt-stricken face, his eyes sad. "Thank you." A her words, Fitz looked up, confused.

"What?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Obviously killing should be avoided whenever possible, but he tortured me. I'm glad he's no longer on this Earth to ruin it some more." Jemma told Fitz honestly. "Are you okay, though? Killing someone...killing someone does things to you."

"Yeah...it does." Fitz took a deep breath. "But it's not the first time." He finally admitted.

"What do you mean?" Jemma's eyes widened at the possibilities of what Fitz was admitting.

"To save May the year we were recruited, I killed a HYDRA Agent at the Hub." Fitz looked to the ground, ashamed of what he would see if he looked up. "I never told you because I didn't want you to look at me differently."

"Oh, Fitz." Jemma cupped his cheek and looked straight into his eyes, the only expression loving, unlike the disgust he was expecting. "I will never see you as anything other than Fitz. My Fitz. You are not a monster, or a bad man, or whatever is running through your head at the moment. You're an agent of SHIELD, and sometimes you have to do things you don't want to do, it comes with the job."

"Thanks, Jemma." Fitz smiled at her, and the two exchanged a less than low-key, but passionate and tender kiss in the hangar.


	8. Selfish Ambition is Taking My Vision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz has a chat with Jemma after they find out AIDAs been working against them.

**The Playground - After the Radcliffe (Techically his LMD) is arrested**

**-**

Fitz finds himself staring at Aida’s head. The wires sticking out from the base of the skull and the slow, subtle drip of the last remnant of synthetic blood reminded him all too well that she was not human. He placed the head in a drawer in their storage room, locking it away before stepping back and taking a deep breath. He felt guilt rise up in his throat like bile, threatening to come out and make everything that had just happened all too real. 

“Fitz?” He heard Jemma’s voice echo from down the hall. When she found him staring at the storage spaces, she sighed and walked over to him, taking his hand in hers.

”It‘s my fault.” Fitz muttered. “Nathanson’s death is on me.”

”Not, Fitz, it’s not.” Jemma sighed.

”Yeah, yeah it is.” He turned slightly and faced her. “If I hadn’t-if i hadn’t perfected her, I don’t think any of this would have happened.” He sighed and looked to the floor.

”What do you mean?” Jemma asked, her tone turning to concern.

”Radcliffe hadn’t perfected her enough so that she could pass as human. She was still full of bugs, programming wise - even though physically she was as human as he could make her.” He paused and shook his head slightly. “I helped fine tune her movements, her speech pattern, made sure she actually looked as much like a human as possible if someone was looking closely. If I hadn’t of done that, then it would have taken Radcliffe a lot longer to perfect her.”

”Then i’m certain that if you hadn’t of perfected Aida, we, and others on our team, would have died.” Jemma said with a sad smile. “Yes, Aida’s existence was likely a mistake, but we would have been shot if Aida hadn’t of taken those bullets for all of us while we were trying to stop Eli Morrow.”

”I guess.” Fitz sighed. “I still feel responsible for Nathanson...”

”I know.” Jemma put her arms around him and they hugged in silence for several moments, neither saying another word about their latest troubles.

Fitz found himself rubbing circles on Jemma’s shoulder, absentmindedly tracing patterns only her could see. Jemma let him and buried her head in his shoulder. Fitz thought of eventually getting away. He had planned on going on a holiday with Jemma, but between Daisy leaving, Lincoln’s death, Coulson stepping down and Mace taking the reins, Fitz and Jemma found it was a less than ideal time and hoped to do it sometime later. He wished they’d have gone anyway. It would have been nice to have some relaxation before the newest big bag reared their ugly head.

Jemma was thinking similar, though she was also mostly focussed on Fitz. He had that unsavoury habit of taking everyone’s worry’s as his own, taking everything wrong that happened and blaming himself. He had the weight of the world on his shoulders and nobody, not even Jemma, was generally able to take some of the load. It came from years of abuse with his father, telling him he wasn’t good enough, or worth his fathers time, money and attention. Fitz barely spoke about it, but there was no doubt in her mind that many of those years, his father was more than verbally abusive. Since she met Fitz, Jemma was able to see those scars that were left. His father had done a number on him, and Jemma hated it.

”Do you think they’ll forgive me?” Fitz asked, finally breaking the silence.

”Of course.” Jemma sighed, pulling away from the hug and putting her hand on his cheek, watching his soulful eyes stare into hers. “What makes you think there’s something to forgive anyway?”

”Mack.” Fitz shrugged. “He seems a little put out at all of this, maybe a little hostile towards me.”

”He’s just on edge, like everyone else. I don’t think he means to direct it at you.” Jemma told him.

”Yeah, well it’s hard to think otherwise.” Fitz sighed and gently pulled out of Jemma’s touch, going to lean against the wall. “I know I didn’t create her in the first place, Jemma, but those deaths...everything Aida did, all of that I had a hand to play in. I’m the bad guy.” He finished with a shuddering breath.

”No. No, you’re not.” Jemma shook her head, her expression desperate, her urgency to stop his self-hate clear. “You are not the bad guy, Fitz. Okay? Yes you helped build Aida, but Radcliffe corrupted her! You helped build something revolutionary, and yes, Ultron’s creation and, well, terminator, should have been taken into account, but _it wasn’t you_. Okay? That wasn’t you. You didn’t do any of that.”

”But I feel like I should be held responsible, Jemma!” Fitz banged his head against the wall once, then twice, and was about to go again but Jemma cupped his cheeks in her hands.

”It wasn’t you.” She told him softly, getting him to stare at her. “You are not responsible.” She added. “Okay?”

”Okay...” Fitz was still unconvinced, but was willing to listen to Jemma.

”You did not corrupt Aida, you didn’t do a single thing to make her kill Nathanson.” Jemma took his hand in one of hers. “This is not your fault.”

”Okay...” Fitz nodded.

Jemma knew that saying it a few times wasn’t enough for Fitz to believe it, but she knew that her believing in him would help him keep going, at least for a little while. She knew Fitz had to prove it to himself that it wasn’t him, and he was not responsible, in order for him to finally believe it for himself, and she knew that would take a while, but she hoped she could help. Fitz was complicated, and only she knew the true extent of those complications, only she knew what made him tick, what calmed him down and everything in between, down to the finest of details. To Fitz, she was his rock, and her being by his side through the hard times, was truthfully all Fitz needed to have a reason to keep going.

”Coulson would like you to go talk to Radcliffe.” Jemma said softly. “Are you okay to do that?” Fitz thought for a moment, weighing out his options.

”Yeah...yeah I think i’m okay to do that.” He nodded and pulled away.

”Good.” Jemma smiled.

 

* * *

 

Fitz strode into the containment room, the guard having let him in to see Radcliffe. When Radcliffe saw him, he perked up immediately, a beaming smile on his face as he tossed away a pillow, standing up with his arms outstreached, seemingly unfazed by Fitz’s steely expression.

”Fitz!” Radcliffe beamed, putting his arms down as Fitz approached. “Oh, Fitz, this has all been a big misunderstanding, you have to believe me. I mean, things just got out of control.” Radcliffe sighed. Fitz looked down and nodded slightly, trying to contain his disappointment and anger.

”Yeah, they did.” He responded. He then began to move over to the seating area “You know the whole time I was testing my theory, looking into what you did. Do you know what I wanted to find, more than anything?” He asked as he took a seat on the pristine, white couch. He looked up at Radcliffe. “That I was wrong.”

”I know-“ Radcliffe started, but Fitz cut him off.

”Because you were my friend.” Fitz sighed. He lifted his hands and flopped them back down again as he spoke the next few words. “But it’s a pattern. I almost hoped this time it was my paranoia. I actually hoped I was paranoid.” Fitz scoffed slightly, finally getting to say the words he could get out, the feelings he couldn’t convey to Jemma. “But no, you’ve turned on everyone.” 

“No, no, Fitz! I didn’t want to hurt anyone, I-I-I wanted to help everyone! That-that-that’s what this is about.” He stuttered quickly as he spoke. “These people matter to me.” 

“You’ve got a sociopathic way of showing it.” Fitz nearly spat.

“I don’t bond well with actually people, you know that.” He sighed before lurching forward and sitting across from Fitz. “When you rescued me from Hive, they were ready to lock me up. You believed in me, you stood by me.”

”My mistake.” Fitz put his hands up in a shrug and scoffed.

”No, it wasn’t.” Radcliffe started. “You’ve been more than a friend. You’ve been like a son to me.” Fitz scoffed slightly and looked away.

”Yeah, well...that’s why this sucks.” Fitz muttered.

“I get over eager, Fitz, you know that.” Radcliffe sighed. “But I meant well, I still do. Talk to them, Fitz, help me explain it to them.”

”You’re mad.” Fitz said with a shuddering sigh. 

“I wouldn’t harm anyone, my only goal is to preserve life. My first priority, always.” Radcliffe told him. Fitz then looked up at Radcliffe and noticed something that was distinctly different. His eye. Radcliffe had a synthetic, bird-like eye.

”Right.” Fitz said, leaning forward to look a little closer to Radcliffe, causing him to blink in confusion, and slight worry. Fitz was right. This wasn’t Radcliffe. He stood quickly and walked over to the door, much to Radcliffe’s protests.

”Fitz, Fitz, no, wait!” He called after the young engineer. Fitz stepped just outside the door and asked the guard on duty for his sidearm. 

“I need to borrow that, please.” Fitz told the guard. Once he had a hold on the weapon, he walked back into the room, Radcliffe’s face full of worry and fear.

”I still have feelings!” Radcliffe fell backwards onto the bed. “I still care about you, Fitz!”

”I’ve got to hand it to Radcliffe, you certainly act like it.” Fitz stated, aiming the gun and taking the shot. It took only a moment but the LMD started moving back towards Fitz, a hole in it’s forehead with synthetic blood trickling down it’s face.

”I stil care about you, Fitz.” The LMD said in a robotic tone, moving backwards and forwards slightly, movements corrupted. “I still care about you, Fitz.” It said again. “I still care about you, Fitz, Fitz...” That seemed to be the last straw for the LMD as it fell backwards, sparks coming from the exposed parts in it’s head.

“I’m going to need some assistance.” Fitz called to the guard at the door. “Medical and engineering!”

”Yes sir.” The guard responded.

Fitz looked down at the robot. It wasn’t over yet.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thought i’d add the whole Fitz and Radcliffe confrontation because without it, the chapter felt a bit short.


	9. I can't walk and I ain't the same

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the Framework, Fitz is feeling more guilty than ever. Jemma has a chat before regrouping with the team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back people! Should be doing a quiz for uni right now but I'm doing this

**Before they regroup and talk about food**

* * *

 

Jemma found Fitz sitting in the burnt out coridoor, head in his hands and knees raised to his chest. He was sobbing silently and didn't even know of Jemma's presence. Without saying a word, she sat down next to him and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. Fitz flinched under her touch but made no move to brush her off. He had been through something she couldn't understand. Aida didn't just manipulate his mind, but she also manipulated his desires, his free will. No doubt Fitz was feeling the weight of all that.

"She..." Fitz began to speak but trailed off. "Aida...was-was rough." He told Jemma. "Because she -  _It_ \- couldn't feel."

The severity of the words Fitz had just told her made her freeze in place. Jemma didn't know of the extent of Aida and The Doctor's relationship but she could guess. Fitz all but confirmed it. Aida had manipulated him to love her, to hold her,  _feel_ her. It. She didn't know what to do about it, knowing she couldn't understand that situation. Her own with Will was more a relationship of convenience rather than manipulation or Stockholm syndrome, but Fitz...poor Fitz.

"I'm sorry." Was all she could get out. Fitz scoffed but said nothing else. "You should've had to go through  _any_ of that."

"Well, I did." He snapped, his head raising to face Jemma, eyes red with tears. "I just wish I didn't kill Agnes or Mace to add to it..." He trailed off.

"May feel equally responsible for Mace, Fitz." Jemma told him.

"Yeah, but she didn't actually give the order. She recommended it." Fitz spat, angry at himself and the world around him. " _I_ made the decision to shoot Agnes. Aida didn't have to say a word. It was all me." He stared straight into Jemma's eyes and watched as she sucked in a breath. For a moment she saw his focus move slightly away from her, as if he was listening to something else.

"Fitz," She said his name, drawing his attention back to her. "You are not at fault."

"I wanted to do them, Jemma. I  _wanted_ to kill them, torture the Inhumans. My decisions." He reinforced the ideas in his own head. "You can't dispute that, can you? Aida may have changed a few things about my past, like my father and inserting herself, adding HYDRA to the mix, but she didn't have to tell me to do any of that."

"Because you weren't yourself." Jemma tried to get him to believe.

"But that came from inside of me, Jemma. That wasn't programming." Fitz eyed her. "You know what i've done in the past, don't you dare tell me that's not me, because it is. Some dark part of me that's champing at the bit to get out, take control. It's me." He shuffled his position to face the wall, not even looking at her.

"Fine." Jemma shrugged. "Maybe that is a part of you, I don't know, you don't tell me everything and I don't expect you to." She sighed. "But that doesn't define you, Fitz. You're the most kind and compassionate man i've ever met and even after everything you still believed that Aida coud do good. You still believed that Aida could save people. I could never have done that, Fitz." She put her hand on his. "If I had gotten out of the Framework after what you went through, i would have shot Aida the first chance I got." 

"A part of me still wanted-wanted her." Fitz admitted in a low whisper. "The Framework wasn't like waking up from a dream but from-"

"Another life." Jemma finished. "May and Coulson told me."

"So somewhere, deep in my mind, i'm still him, no matter how small that part is, he's still in there. I have his memories, his experiences and I just want to erase them and move on." Fitz pulled away from Jemma's hand. "But I can never do that and I'm afraid of what i'm going to do next."

"You can overcome him." Jemma said. "The Doctor is not the dominant part of your mind. That's you. You make the decisions, you don't have to listen to those thoughts,  those memories. You don't have to pay attention."

"What If I do?" Fitz asked, staring at Jemma with such ferosity that she lost her words. "What if there's a situation that means I have to tap into those memories, that I have to do the things that he did in order to get the job done? What then?"

"I don't know." Jemma admitted. "You just have to trust me."

"Yeah." Fitz said with a hint of a scoff. He stood and left Jemma alone in the coridoor.

 

* * *

 

 

Fitz found Daisy in the remnants of the lab, fixing what looked to be a broken component on one of her gauntlets. Sparks flew out from the metal and Daisy dropped the gauntlet, curing and waving her hand that had been hit by sparks as a result. She noticed Fitz and gave him a small smile, though behind her eyes were emotions Fitz was all too familiar in feeling. Fitz picked up the gauntlet, held out his hand for the screwdriver Daisy was holding and said nothing as he began to fix it.

"Thank you." Daisy said slowly. Fitz gave her a tight smile as he worked. He had the same result as Daisy, though, and sparks flew from the open panel. Fitz tossed the gauntlet onto the burnt lab bench and put his head in his hands, a loud yell making its way from his mouth. "Hey, it's okay." Daisy moved to help. "I can go without them for a while."

"No you can't and we both know it." Fitz stated, his voice low and hoarse. He lookd up at her. "I can't bloody fix a thing when all I can think about is what happened  _there_." He said, hitting the table and throwing off several burnt out containers. "I can't think because everytime I focus all I can hear are screams." Fitz sat down on the bench next to Daisy. "I'm so sorry Daisy." He told her. "I'm sorry for t-t-torturing you." He stuttered and ran his hand over his face. 

"I forgave you the moment it happened." Daisy told him.

"What?" Fitz looked up at her.

"It wasn't your fault. I know that. Now I just need you to figure that one out too." She said with a shrug. "It wasn't like the injuries lasted long anyway."

"How can you even look at me after what I did?"

"Easy." Daisy stared at him. "See?" Fitz squirmed slightly and looked to the floor.

"Someone's going to find Mace's body." Fitz said. "I know it. It's going to happen. It wasn't at the rig when we came out so Aida must've disposed of it somehow. Probably hoping to pin it on you."

"Let whoever finds the body think it was me. I don't care." Daisy said. "Because it certianly wasn't you, and I don't want to hear you say that it was, because it wasn't and we all know that."

"What about Agnes?" Fitz asked.

"Okay..." Daisy trailed off. "Agnes still wasn't your fault. Aida killed her body long before you terminated her consciousness."

"But she was still alive in some form in there. It was her." Fitz said.

"It was an echo." Daisy said. "Nothing more. The real Agnes Kitsworth died. What she was in the Framework, was like what Radcliffe was in there. Echoes, the remnants of a brain long since dead. They weren't really alive there, not in the way you or I are." She explained with a sad smile trained on Fitz. Fitz said nothing in response but only nodded, the gears working in his brain.

"Thank you Daisy." Fitz said. "I know what I have to do now." He said.

"You're welcome, Fitz." Daisy smiled.

Later, after they said goodbye to Robbie, she found out Fitz was planning to stay to get arrested, planning to take the fall for everything that happened. It wasn't Jemma who pulled him out of that idea, though, it was Daisy. They'd both been through similiar situations and Jemma couldn't quite understand the extent of those situations. Daisy could. Daisy could understand Fitz in more ways than she used to.


	10. I can feel the pull begin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz and Hunter chat after breaking into the military base.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short chapter because I couldn't get too much material from this scene I'm basing it on.

**The Lighthouse - 2017**

 

 

* * *

 

Fitz pulled off the military jacket like it burned him. He wasn't happy with what happened, wished that it could have been avoided, but it happened and he did what he did. He was just glad he had ICERs in his hands rather than lethal pistols. He didn't know what he would've done if they had been lethal. He supposed he would've done the same thing. Even then, it was curious how the situation developed, even Hunter was interested. It was a complete role reversal between the two ex-SHIELD agents. The one most aquainted with technology took the role of a seasoned combat operative, and the mercenary vaguely knowledgable in how to operate tech, took the role of the tech expert. Neither of them were the other. Fitz wasn't a seasoned combat operative. Despite having been in combat for several years, he was never very good at it. Hunter wasn't a tech expert, but he decided to ask questions later and do what Fitz said.

"Feel better?" Hunter walked into the room where Fitz stood.

"Not even a little." Fitz replied with a sigh. "I'm sorry." He sighed. "I got carried away."

"You got us out of there." Hunter shrugged. "What's 'carried away' about that?" He asked. Fitz said nothing but gave him a side-eye from where he was hunched over a table. "Besides, nice moves out there. Who taught you those? May?" Questioned Hunter. Fitz shook his head.

"It was HYDRA in the Framework." Fitz said quietly. "Combat and firearms training was mandatory." Hunter froze and looked to his feet for a moment.

"Oh." Was all he said.

"I didn't think, just did." Fitz added. "Suppose that's what i'm supposed to do, right?" He asked almost out of desperation. 

"Sure," Hunter shrugged, "but I wouldn't get too deep into thinking about it." He patted Fitz on the shoulder. "What I saw there, that was an agent. You've become pretty badass, Fitzy." He chuckled. "I liked that. It was fun. Made me proud." He watched Fitz's expression turn sour.

"Yeah." He scoffed. "Proud." Fitz spat the word before shaking his head. "I feel like i'm not even  _me_ anymore. I'm some amalgamation between who I was before and who I was in there."

"My experience, there's nothing bad about that." Hunter shrugged. Fitz whirled around and stood straight.

"There should be." He said "I did terrible things in there. Horrible, horrific things." Fitz frowned but he was seething at the words. "How can you be okay with that?"

"I didn't see any of that." Hunter said. "I see who you are now."

"I tortured people, I tortured  _Daisy_." Fitz emphasised Daisy's name. "I  _shot_ Jemma, killed the Director of SHIELD and an innocent woman, both of which were real by the way." Hunter said nothing for several moments before sighing and siting on the table.

"Fitz, we've all done things we regret." Hunter said carefully. "Did I ever tell you about a time, before I met Bobbi, during the start of my Mercenary career, where I was paranoid as hell?" He asked. Fitz shook his head so Hunter continued. "I suspected everyone of foul play, even my buddies." Fitz stared at Hunter, who was only looking a the floor. "We went on a job to Bulgaria," He began, "It came out that we had a mole in our group, working for the opposition, so I, being extremely paranoid, thought it was my buddie Cole, who I saw lurking around our lockers before we left." Hunter took a deep breath before continuing. "So I confronted Cole at gunpoint, yelling questions. Cole wasn't cooperative because he had no idea what I was talking about, but I took it as a sign that he was guilty, so I shot him, more in panic than anything." Fitz felt the shame and guilt coming from Hunter. "He died quickly, but naturally it caused my other teammates to suspect it was me." He let out an ironic laugh. "Long story short, it was our team leader, and my other buddy Jay put him down, but I still killed Cole."

"I'm sorry." Fitz said sincerily. 

"Yeah." Hunter shook his head. "Point is, we've all done things that we look back on and can't help feeling guilty. What you did today, that was a useful application of those skills you learnt in there. You fought them off, without killing them."

"What if I had a lethal weapon in my hand?" Fitz asked. "What then?"

"Don't think about 'what-ifs', Fitz. It's not healthy." Hunter sighed. "Trust me on that one." Hunter glanced back at the floor, then at Fitz's face, which held a very grim expression. "You think too much about what could have happened that you don't look at what actually happened. You should be happy that we got out of there okay, with both the pod thing  _and_ the Zephyr. It's a win, Fitz. We did good.  _You_ did good."

"Everytime I do something  _he_ would've done, it gets worse." Fitz muttered. "He's talking and I can't help but listen."

"Like when you saw Simmons?" Hunter asked.

"Yeah."

"You don't have to interact with your hallucinations, Fitz." Hunter supplied.

"I know." Fitz shrugged. "Jemma was my conscience, this... _him_. He's my...I don't even know."

"What do you mean?" Hunter furrowed his brows.

"Jemma - my hallucination - was always encouraging me to do good things, go socialise, get back to working, not to judge people too much," Fitz began, "The Doctor, however, is talking down at me. Yelling, insulting, telling me to do bad things, go hurt someone, kill, torture, do some research on his favoured topics. Even tried to make me escape prison by force." Fitz explained.

"Oh." Hunter breathed. "That's not fun, or healthy."

"Yeah." Fitz shrugged. "Tell me something I don't know."

"So what are you going to do?" Hunter asked. "You might have to use it in the future." Fitz barked a humourless laugh.

"Then I gather i'll have to use it, won't I?" Fitz shook his head. "No avoiding it if it happens. I have no idea what I'm getting into."

"Right..." Hunter frowned. "Speaking of the future..."

"Yeah, I should probably get Enoch." Fitz nodded.

 

* * *

 

 

Fitz finished loading up the case of gadgets he was going to need in the future, and pushed it in the hole they had created in the wall of the Lighthouse.

"These will be waiting for me when I get there." Fitz said with a sigh as he stood up. He noticed Mack's shotgun-axe on the floor and picked it up, staring at it for a moment before moving to put it with the case. "Team SHIELD will be fully armed." Fitz then welded the panel they had cut, shut so the wall was fully sealed. He, Hunter and Enoch moved into a neighbouring room where Polly Hinton stood, staring at the pod.

"How does this get Fitz to the future?" Polly asked.

"It's a cryo-freeze chamber." Fitz stated, kneeling down to grab something from his backpack.

"What?!" Hunter exclaimed. Fitz snapped his head up to look at his friend.

"Yeah. Taking the long way there." Fitz stood and walked over to stand next to Polly, looking over the pod. "Gonna sleep for seventy-four years." He sighed. He took out a pen and began writing on a postcard.

"That is the most insane idea in our history of insane ideas." Hunter commented.

"Yep." Fitz muttered.

"We can't hide you in a wall, you'll suffocate when you wake up, and if we leave you sitting around here, who knows what people or things are going to find there way in there." Hunter commented.

"He's not going to be here." Enoch stated. "I summoned a chonicom vessel. We'll orbit a planet hidden safely away from Earth until he wakes up." Fitz, in the meantime, had walked over to Polly and Robin's stuff to place a postcard with the words 'Working on it - Fitz' on it, to tell the team in the future. The postcard also taking the long way there.

"Oh great, that's brilliant." Hunter shook his head.

"Are you ready?" Enoch asked Fitz.

"We'll look after those two." Hunter said, reffering to Polly and Robin. "Bobbi could use a good cause."

"Thank you, Lance Hunter." Enoch replied.

"Just make sure he gets back okay." Hunter didn't even know if he'd ever see Fitz again. That was his only assurance. Enoch nodded in response.

"Well," Fitz walked over and stood next to Hunter. "Guess this is it." He sighed.

"I've had a hell of a time as always." Hunter couldn't even look at Fitz. "I guess I underestimated your odds." That's when he locked eyes with the engineer. Fitz took in a shaky breath and clapped Hunter on the shoulder. "Don't die out there, mate." Hunter pulled Fitz into a tight hug, his eyes watering as he didn't think he'd see him again, despite Enoch's one nod of assurance.

"Alright..." Fitz tried to pull Hunter off gently. "Okay." When Fitz pulled away, he walked over to the now open pod and laid down inside, Enoch closing the lid over him. As Enoch set the time, Hunter walked over to the pod's window and peering over Fitz.

"I love you." He said intentionally dramatically in a reference to Star Wars. That particular line got Fitz to chuckle.

"I know." Fitz replied. He did indeed feel like Han Solo getting frozen in carbonite. He had barely any time to think before his world went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made up the stories Hunter told. They hold no Canonical significance


End file.
